


The Significance of Fair Food

by Plaided_Ani



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-19
Updated: 2018-06-19
Packaged: 2019-05-25 13:03:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,174
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14977730
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Plaided_Ani/pseuds/Plaided_Ani
Summary: You talk the boys into making a stop during your travels and you show Castiel the joys of being human.





	The Significance of Fair Food

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for @katymacsupernatural‘s Summer Time Challenge.
> 
> My three categories were: Fair, snow cone, getting sunburnt.
> 
> This is unbeta'd, please forgive any mistakes. This is also my first time writing Castiel, so forgive me if it’s a little... off.

When you asked the boy to make a pit stop, the last thing they expected was to end up pulling into a fairgrounds parking lot. The world was ending, again, you had demons and angels and everything in between after the four of you, but damned if it didn’t seem like a good idea. “Dude,” Dean reasoned with his brother, slapping him on his arm, “fair food.”

“Yes,” you chirped, popping your head between them from the backseat. You wrapped your hands around Sam’s shoulders, fingers digging into the tense muscle and you shook him like a maraca. “Yes!”

“What’s the significance of fair food,” Castiel inquired beside you, curious eyes watching Sam’s head snap to and fro from your jarring.

You rounded on him immediately, releasing Sam before you slid into the former angel’s personal space, slinging your arm around his shoulders. “Castiel,” your voice was quiet, intimate, “fair food is the most delicious nourishment that humans have to offer.” You reached up and ran a hand down his cheek and forced him to look you in the eye, “And all of it’s fried.”

He stared at you unblinkingly, puffy lips slightly parted in confusion. You were a hair’s length apart, close enough to be sharing the same lungs, and he nodded once causing his nose brush against yours.

“If you two are done making out,” Dean cleared his throat, arm perched over the back of his seat to glare at you. “I want a corndog.”

You immediately released Cas and then turned to scramble out of the car. You joined up with Dean, hooking your arm around his and the pair of you charged the fair’s main gate, Sam and Castiel trailing behind you.

The sun was out in full force and what little clouds floating in the sky provided no comfort from it’s heated rays. You turned your head up, eyes closed to bask in the warm as you four waited in line for the first vendor that Dean deemed acceptable.

“Fried butter,” Castiel droned behind you, “that doesn’t sound very healthy.”

“It doesn’t have to be healthy, Cas,” Dean replied, pulling you forward as the queue moved, “it’s fair food.”

Sam huffed in annoyance and shook his head, “That’s not an excuse to clog your arteries.”

“Yes, it is,” you and Dean replied simultaneously.

You righted your head and turned to glare up at the youngest Winchester, but you caught sight of Castiel clutching at his chest, his fingers clenching around the soft white shirt that Dean leant him. “Your heart’s gonna be fine, Cas,” you assure him, stumbling along as Dean pulled you forward yet again. “It takes years of eating bad crap to clog you up. If anyone is gonna die of a heart attack, it’s Dean!”

“And I would have no regrets,” came the proud sniff beside you.

“You two are idiots,” Sam sighed.

You opened your mouth to retort, but Dean yanked you one final time and you spun to order the biggest funnel cake they allotted, double sugar and strawberries on top. Dean, of course, got his three corndogs, Sam opted for cup-o-salad, but Cas was at a loss. “He’ll have a corn dog and fries,” you decided.

Dean stayed back to wait for the order and Sam lead the way to find a semi-clean table nearby. “I’ll admit, Y/N,” Cas confided in you, eyes darting to Sam’s back cautiously, “that this fair food does smell delicious.”

“Oh, Cas,” you cooed, once again slinging your arm around his arm and placed your head on his shoulder, “you’re in for a treat.” You take one side with Castiel, Sam opting to sit across from you. The sounds of the crowd washed over you as you baked in the afternoon sun, the shrills from fast rides and rigged games were the soundtrack of your best idea yet.

“Alright, heart attacks on a plate,” Dean cackled gleefully as he sat the tray down in the middle. He passed Castiel his basket and you snatched up your funnel cake with a loud smack of your lips. “You’re gonna give me some of that, Y/N, right?”

Your face twisted in aggression, your body curling around your plate as you claimed your territory. “Absolutely not,” you snarled. Cas shifted uneasily beside you which snapped you out of your daze, “But you can have some, Castiel.” Blue eyes met yours and his brow pinched with uncertainty.

“Oh, so you’ll give some to Cas and not me,” Dean growled, corndog shoved in his mouth and mustard dribbled down his chin.

“Yes,” you answered simply, cutting of a nice, big piece coated with the most sugar and biggest strawberry and held it up for Castiel to eat. The former angel frowned at you and looked to Dean before opening his mouth wide to let you choo-choo it in.

He chewed it slowly, considering its taste. Sugar outlined his mouth and a drip of syrup rested in the very center of his bottom lip. Without thinking, you swiped you thumb across it, shoving it into your mouth to lick off the excess. His eyes went wide, watching the finger disappear between your own sugared lips. “This is very good,” he said hoarsely when he finally managed to swallow.

You wiggled your eyebrows in victory and pointed to his meal, “Clog those arteries, Cas.”

The rest of the afternoon was spent queuing in lines, you and Dean hogging the cotton candy. You did share a bit with Castiel for educational purposes, but most of it was shoved shamelessly into your mouth.

“You two are going to throw up,” Sam grimaced as you headed closer to the Tilt-a-Whirl.

“That’s the fun of fairs,” you replied cheerfully, nudging Cas to make a mental note of it. “You stuff yourself full of bad food and then you get on all the rides so you can throw it up later!”

Cas shook his head, “That doesn’t sound like fun at all.”

“It is,” Dean winked, “you’ll love it.” Sam contradicted his brother with a silent shake of his head, but you were all ushered into your seats before the older brother could argue. And when the ride was over, you were hugging your stomach, looking a little paler and Dean shuffled slowly beside you.

“I told y-” Sam started but heated glares from the both of you had him holding his hands up and laughing.

Despite your aching stomachs, you and Dean drag the other two on the Teacups, the Falling Tower, even in the Haunted House. It was the Tunnel of Love that caught your eye, though, and not because you had anything romantic in mind, but it was a slow, easy ride that hid you from the harsh afternoon sun.

The boys fought over who would actually sit with you because it was the Tunnel of Love, after all, and you can’t go in with your brother without people raising eyebrows and they sure as hell didn’t want to ‘fall in love with Cas’. “You’re all idiots,” you exclaimed and pulled Cas into the small swan shaped boat.

“This ride doesn’t actually make humans fall in love, does it,” he asked you hesitantly.

You leaned back against the hard wooden frame, head tilted back as the tunnel’s cool air breezed over your sun kissed skin, “No, Cas. It’s an excuse for teenagers to make out in, though. Or older people to make out like teenagers.” There’s a deep rumble of thoughtfulness next you and you can feel Cas’s eyes on you. “You wanna make out with me,” you asked with one eye cracked open.

“I don’t know,” he answered. “That means kissing, right?”

“Yes,” you snorted.

He’s brow wrinkled and he nodded, “Yes.”

“Yes,” you repeated, surprised. You sat up and tilted your head, a smile split your face in two.

“Yes,” Cas said for the second time, “I’ve thought about kissing you before. I’ve watched you with the men that you’ve taken home from bars and…”

You held up a hand and blinked, “What do you mean you’ve watched me?”

“I was afraid that they might hurt you, so I kept watch,” Castiel explained, noting your sudden discomfort of the conversation. “I stopped watching when you… you know.”

“I am so glad you’re human now,” you groaned, bringing up your legs in the open bench seat and hid your face away. You felt a hand atop your knee and a gentle squeeze in timid comfort. “If you ever get your grace back, dude, please don’t ever watch me again,” you pleaded once you lifted your head.

Cas nodded, those deep blue eyes full of regret and understanding, “I promise.”

The ride finished without a makeout session, but you had forgiven Cas by the time you caught up with Sam and Dean. The sun was getting low and the fair’s lights slowly started to flicker on, the Ferris Wheel drawing everyone’s attention. “Last ride,” Sam warned you, so you tugged them along, waiting in the longest queue of the day.

“Snow Cones,” Dean whispered, pushing at your shoulder. “Wait here,” he instructed his brother and friend before dragging you over to the stand. While the ice did sound like a good idea in the warm summer evening, more sugar was going to make your veins explode.

“I dunno, Dean,” you patted your belly, “I don’t know if I can fit anymore.”

“Don’t be a wuss,” he egged you on and shoved you up to the counter. You order a small one, rainbow all the way and kick Dean in the shin when you got your purchase and ran off to the safety of your friends.

“More sugar,” you told Cas, holding up the shaved ice settled in a paper cup. “Sweets for a sweetie,” you offer it to him, “just bite.” He looked from you to the colored ball of frost and scraped his teeth along to gather some with an approving hum. Dean soon joined you, tagging you on the back of your head when he returned and nearly had you spilling your treat. “Watch it!”

Cas frowned in disapproval at Dean, but the oldest Winchester smirked smugly and bite down hard on his snow. “For as much sugar as you consume, Dean, you can be sour,” he reprimanded, patting your shoulder and taking yet another bite of your snow cone.

“Are you really white knighting, Y/N, right now,” Dean snorted, the tip of his nose dyed blue from his flavoring.

“If that means I’m defending her, then yes,” Cas replied, his eyes, like yours and Sam’s, trained on the small spot of blue. “Dean,” he started, but you wrap a hand around his wrist and squeeze. How the three of you are holding a straight face, you’ll never know.

“What,” came the gruff reply accompanied by a frown.

“Nothing,” Cas replied casually, tearing his eyes away from his friend and back to you and the Snow Cone. You return the stare, both of you leaning in to take a bite and you tried not to choke on the flavored ice.

“What,” Dean asked pressingly.

“Line’s moved up,” Sam answered, pulling his brother along.

Dean eyed you all suspiciously, but he moved along with everyone else, digging back into his ice and coming out with an even bigger spot of blue. Sam’s jaw is clenched so hard you could hear his teeth starting to crack and you’re sure you’ve snorted some of your ice in an attempt to stop your laughter. But Castiel? He was standing there, smiling at the three of you, suddenly understanding what the significance of fair food is.

-

“Dammit,” Dean groaned the next day, waddling in from the bathroom, “Y/N!” Castiel looked up from the newspaper and tilted his head, his eyes shifting from Dean to you splayed out of the bed in nothing more than a thin cami and cotton shorts, looking just as uncomfortable as Dean with your cherry red skin.

“Shut up,” you spat, not able to move from your bed. It wasn’t fair, not really. All four of you were out in the sun all day and only you and Dean managed to get burned, even through all of your layers. “Your voice makes my skin hurt.”

“Your face makes my skin hurt,” Dan shot back, slowly climbing onto the bed next to you. The pair of you weakly slapped at each other from your prone positions and you felt the bed dip behind you.

“Sam said this might happen,” Castiel stated as he flipped open a cap of aloe. “He said I would need to rub this into your skin.”

Dean jerked his head up and immediately winced from the pain, “You’re not rubbing anything on me.”

“Shut up and enjoy it, jerk,” you hissed and twisted your head as much as you could to look at Castiel. “Rub it all over me, Cas, as deep as you can.”

The former angel flushed as bright as the pair of you, but set to work.


End file.
